


The Story of a Modern Christian

by poorbasil



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c., Ted Cruz - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:56:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poorbasil/pseuds/poorbasil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ted Cruz fucks a bible and remembers the first time he ever did that back when he was a teenager, because, if he was to be honest with himself, nothing turns him on more than the Word of the Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Story of a Modern Christian

**Author's Note:**

> Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit.  
> As it was in the beginning  
> is now,  
> and ever shall be, world without end.  
> Amen.

It was dark when he entered the room, the sparsely decorated space illuminated by the light seeping through the half-shut linen blinds. Shadows played on the empty wall across from the couch, created by the dim brightness of dulled night-time lighting. Ted sighed, absentmindedly locking the door and stepping into the empty hotel room. 

It was late. Past 11 PM he was sure. Maybe past 12. He didn't bother to check, not wanting to take out his phone as the possibility of having to deal with the messages he was sure were filling up his lock screen weighted heavily on his already weary mind. 

He didn't bother to turn on the lights either; instead he just fumbled a tad unsteadily into the general location of the door to his bedroom. He sat down on the worn bed, hearing the creaking of springs beneath him as his weight settled on the mattress. 

Ted let the darkness wash over him, feeling oddly comforted in the way in which the absence of light concealed his body. He didn't want to think. Didn't want to look at himself. As he pulled off his boots and loosened his tie, he began to recite his nightly prayers in a mumbled whisper. The darkness engulfed him, the silence in the room magnetized his voice; even his whispered words, muttered for time's sake, seemed like an intrusion in the quiet night. Many nights spent alone, away in DC, far from his family, from his children's laughter and his wife's embrace, he was used to it, but complacency didn't alleviate the pang of loneliness Ted too often experienced.

He shuffled about in the darkness for a few minutes, taking care of his nightly rituals. Once he was comfortable in his pajamas and situated on his bed, he reached for the bible sure to be found in the top drawer of his end table.

Knowing with profound clarity that the black bound book would be waiting for him in each consecutive hotel room he stayed in was a constant Ted so dearly relied on. With everything in his life changing from one day to the next, the certainty that his hands would always land upon the smooth casing binding together the word of the Lord when he rummaged through the top drawer, was a source of stability, grounding him to reality and allowing him to carry on with his life in the present. 

He lifted the sacred book, lightweight in his palms but it's words heavy in his heart as he began to skim through the thin pages. He could only faintly make out the letters on the page, and even less so the actual words, yet for some reason simply flicking through the book was a spiritual experience for Ted. Whether he read the verses or not was irrelevant. The mere act of holding such a profound object in his hands provided him with the transcendence he so longed for at the closing of each day.

He closed his eyes, letting his head gently fall back against the headboard. The wooden structure groaned ever so slightly with the added pressure but Ted's barely registered the sound. He held the book in both hands, letting it rest on his lap with his legs stretched out underneath the covers. He recited various memorized prayers, his left thumb gently rubbing continuous circles over the leather casing as he spoke out to the void. It was surreal, and he was always struck with a similar thought each time he prayed alone. The faintest sliver of white light seeped through the slim gap in the curtains. A celestial beam, a heavenly sign. He knew this was not true, but resting in the near obscurity, blinded by the absence of light, the glow of divinity felt like it was shinning down upon him, calling him and beckoning him to take up arms and defend the enlightenment sure to accompany His humbling cause. It was moments like these when Ted felt small, his hubris deflated, set aside in order for the universal  transcendence to occur.

He thought about his family, of his wife and her gentle touch. He craved such an embrace right now against his better wishes. He missed her soft skin and the weight of her supple breast in his hand when they kissed, how it felt when she lay on top of him as they made love slowly in the quiet hours of the night. She was everything he ever wanted, everything he needed, the human manifestation of the proverbial better half.

He loved Heidi Nelson.

But only second to his love for the Lord.

The sense of subdued pride and heightened humility Ted felt when he so much as stood in a church was nonexistence in comparison to the mental transformation he underwent during nights like this. None but the Lord could make him feel this way. So small, bashful even, during these one-on-one communications of such personal nature.

Ted would never admit this to anyone, this sin he had so deftly kept concealed from the confession boxes, one which he's carried with him since youth. His secret.

He breathed in sharply. He hadn't done this in a long time. Perhaps too long. He felt the weight of the sacred book pressing against his groin, his hands rubbing the slender spine up and down, the pressure increasing along with the pace of his movements.

It was in back when he was still young. A teenager. Naive and impressionable, even if he liked to think of himself differently. He had a high conception of himself then, and it was a struggle to suppress his cocky attitude.  It wasn't as though he believed himself to be superior in comparison to his peers, rather, everyone else was just so heavily inferior.

Ted let a moan escape his lips as he remember the first time, his first time. His pace quickened, the cheap bed creaking faster speed. He didn't hear it, couldn't hear it over his ragged breaths.

He'd come back from midnight mass on a Saturday. He'd gone alone that day as he was unable to attend with his family the following morning due to other engagements.

His footsteps were soft as he tread lightly to his bedroom, trying his best to make his movements fast and quiet as to not disturb the peace that settled over his house in the early hours of the morning.

Looking back, Ted couldn't pinpoint the reason why these thoughts crept into his head. He was pondering over the scripture the priest had read, his thoughts innocent as he lay down in his bed, his bible laying on his end table as was customary. Perhaps he had wanted to find the passage that was read during mass. He often dog tagged scripture readings so he could analyze them at a later time. But as he fiddled with the pages of his book, he began to think. The presence of the Lord was all around him, filling up the empty space around him, protecting Ted with His comforting embrace.

It was intrusive and intriguing, the way in which Ted felt as though the Spirit of Christ was always with him, a dominate force.

It-it turned him on.

Oh Heavenly Father, he was hard, his bible laying over his crotch, the weight of it feeling heavier than the little book really was. He let out a soft whine before quickly stifling the noise with his hand as he pushed the book down against his stiffening member, closing his eyes as he did so. He didn't want to see, only feel.

It was without thinking that Ted made his next move, his hand slipping under the elastic waist of his pajamas, long fingers gripping his dick, his breath coming out in soft pants as he sprung his dick free from the confining fabric.

With his other hand, he fumbled in the top drawer of his end table, letting out a triumphant squeal when his fingers closed around the tiny bottle he had hid from his father.

In a swift motion, Ted coated his dick with the substance, registering the low sound of slippery skin as he rubbed his hand up and down. He paused for quick second then squeezed a generous amount of lube onto the open page of his book for good measure.

With a final sigh, Ted closed the holy bible around his dick and promptly began to fuck the Word of the Lord.  

Ted remember that night, how could he forget? The minute details of his touch were forever imprinted in his memory. It was a night like he never experienced before, would never again. Until now. His hectic life prohibited him from this indulgence, and having Heidi by his side quenched his desire to copulate with the holy text. But his wife's caresses, a touch he so cherished and longed for, could never compare to the pleasure he experienced when engaging in this sinful act.

The room was still, the silent cover of blackness punctured only by Ted's quick pants as he finished himself off, capturing his cum within the pious pages of the revered book.

When he was finished he simply sat in the darkness, allowing the gentle breeze filtering in from the air conditioning to grace over his body, leaving his skin prickling under its caress.

The bible lay in between his legs, the physical symbol of his virtues and of his sin.

Ted closed his eyes, lazily allowing his hand, the hand which held his dick as his stroked in tune to rhythmic movement of the bible, to drifted over his head and down to his chest in T formation.

 In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

   


**Author's Note:**

> Ya'll should douse yourselves in holy water now.
> 
> also follow me on Instagram @tedcruzsexyboy for ted pics!!! I love looking at Ted pics and if you actually spent the time to read this, then you probably do too.


End file.
